Sweet Candy
by Cari Marie
Summary: I didn’t understand what was happening to me—what I was feeling. I dismissed my thoughts after a second. It didn’t matter; I was the one in control and he was just my sweet candy. Slash! Oneshot


Hey Guys, this fic has a different style then my other two stories. I'm playing with POV and trying to develop my skills. It's not smut but I think it alludes to it rather nicely. I also have characterized Goyle rather heavily, but I think it's okay since he isn't given much of a personality in the series.

-Dedicated to and Betaed by Kay (Kamerreon) who not only provided me with the pairing but also continually teaches and inspires me.

Warning: Slash (contains homosexuals)

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. They are owned by JKRowlings.

Sweet Candy

**Gregory Goyle was not the smartest wizard at Hogwarts. If fact, he wasn't very smart at all. But just because he couldn't translate Ancient Runes didn't mean he wasn't good at some things. Gregory Goyle was **_**very**_** good at one thing. This didn't require much thought at all, if any. It did, however, require experience. And Greg had experience is spades. Several young men could attest to that. **

.+.

I think the first time I really noticed him was when I found him in the third floor lavatory. It was in the middle of the night and he was a mess. His hair was crazy and he was wearing a pair of ratty pajamas. They were far too big on him and seemed to be barely defying gravity to cling to his hips. That's where my eyes strayed—to his slim¸ pale hips. Mmmm.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped, eyes narrowed in a glare.

I couldn't help but grin and leer. I resisted the urge to look him up and down again; I probably wouldn't come back up to his face.

"Candy," I replied. I imagined that I could feel my heart rate start to speed up in response to my desires.

"Excuse me?" he asked, face turning red.

I followed his blush down his neck to where the view was blocked by his collar. There I caught sight of his collarbone. It was clearly defined and completely smooth. My mouth started to dry and I licked my lips. Delicious.

Obviously he noticed where my eyes landed because he immediately tried to further the distance between us while pulling up his shirt. This caused him to stumble.

"Is there anything wrong?" I asked him with a shark like grin on my face.

"N-n-no," he stuttered, shaking his head from side to side.

I watched his lips try to form the words he wanted to say. His lips were thin, chapped, and a little pale. It looked like he had been chewing on them at one point. What I wouldn't give to put the color back into them. . . .

He started to become frantic as he looked for an escape route. I quickly moved to block his path. "Going somewhere?" I asked pleasantly as I took a step forward.

He quickly averted his gaze and muttered something too quiet for me to hear. I continued my advance, anticipation building as I went. He squeaked when I finally boxed him in with my large frame.

"I wonder if you taste as sweet as you look. . . ." I whispered into his ear.

He shuddered in reply.

It was then that I finally touched him. I started to nibble on his ear: first tracing it with my tongue and then nipping its edge. He was stiff and rigid as I continued my assault on his person. I moved onto his neck, making sure to leave a nice dark mark.

When I got to his lips, I started gently before gradually increasing in pressure. By the time I started using my tongue again, he was putty in my hands. I devoured him.

French kissing could be disgusting and sloppy if done by the inexperienced, clumsy boys. But let me tell you, I have plenty of experience kissing. He could attest to that.

.+.

When I saw him next, it was in the Great Hall for breakfast. He was chatting and laughing with his friends. I tried, and probably failed, to discreetly look for the mark I left on his neck. I couldn't find it anywhere. This made me angry. It was only after I stewed for a couple of minutes that I remembered that we were in our sixth year and that he had probably used a Glamour Charm on it. I aimed a Finite Charm at his neck, but I wasn't strong enough to send it the length of the room. As my anger rose I started to clench my fists, turning my knuckles white. He would know what I thought of his little cover up very soon.

.+.

He tried to avoid me. He kept showing up to class late and walking through the halls only with his friends. The teachers got fed up with his tardiness and started giving him detention. It seemed as though he didn't have a spare second for me to pounce on him.

The longer it went, the more my temper grew. I kept planning and re-planning my punishment—imagining his reaction to each.

I finally trapped him, a week later, on his way back to his dorm. He had just gotten out of detention with Professor Binns. Binns is easy because he only makes you write lines and doesn't check to see that you do them. As I looked him up and down it become obvious that he had been napping and was still slightly out of it.

He didn't notice me until I tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and shouted in surprise. It made me smile.

When he glanced up at me through his fringe, I was surprised at how much it turned me on. I could just see myself slamming him up against the wall and having my way with him.

As if he could sense this, he whimpered in the back of his throat. That brought me back to the present. He looked up at me with doleful eyes and I was mesmerized by them. It was as if the anger drained right out of my body. I was careful as I pressed him against the corridor wall, making sure not to hurt him.

I was slow and gentle as I kissed him, bringing up wonderful moans from his mouth. I moved down his body, worshiping every inch of skin I revealed. Soon, he was completely bare. I licked around his belly button and felt his interest grow, furthering my own interest. His pleas and moans egged me on as I pleasured him. I got on my knees and sucked the soul out of him.

Oral Sex could be awkward and painful if done wrong. But let me assure you, I have plenty of experience in pleasuring with the mouth. He could attest to that.

.+.

I was watching him again when he walked into our Potions classroom the next day. He was talking excitedly with his dorm-mates. One of them, the Irish boy, leaned in close to whisper in his ear. He laughed and whispered in return. I could feel my muscles tensing. I felt an overwhelming urge to grab him and hide him away. No one was allowed to touch him but me!

I glared at him throughout the rest of the lesson, but he didn't seem to notice. When class was finally dismissed and all the students were leaving, I finally caught his glaze. He sent me a soft smile and blushed. I couldn't help but smile back at him, and his grin brightened. Adorable.

Vincent shoved me a couple minutes later, jolting me out of the daze I had settled into. I didn't understand what was happening to me—what I was feeling. I dismissed my thoughts after a second. It didn't matter; I was the one in control and he was just my sweet candy.

.+.

The next time I saw him, I hadn't actually been looking for him. I'd been walking around the corridors with Vincent. We had just finished escorting Draco to one of the classrooms. He never directly told us, but we knew it was so he could spend time with his toy of the week. Our job was to make sure no one interrupted.

When we heard muffled words and scuffling, Vincent and I immediately went to see what was happening. We came across an older Ravenclaw holding a smaller person against the wall. We could see from how tightly he held the person's wrists that the attention was not welcome. Either way, though, it didn't matter to me. At least I didn't think so until I caught a glimpse of _his_ face.

It felt like I didn't even have control of my own body. I ripped the Ravenclaw off of him viciously. After that was a blur of fists, punches and blood. My rage wasn't satisfied until the Ravenclaw stopped moving completely.

When I turned around, I found Vincent staring at me strangely and my . . . I didn't even know anymore . . . but he was huddled in the corner crying. I could feel my temper rising again; someone had dared to touch him! I didn't care whether he was willing or not—that wasn't the issue. No one was allowed to touch him!

I reached for him when he glanced up, only to stop when he whimpered. It was then that I looked down at my hands and realized they were covered in blood. I roughly wiped them off on my shirt before pulling him into my arms. He was shaking and crying.

I couldn't understand what he was doing to me. My chest tightened and my head hurt when I saw him in pain. I did know that I wouldn't feel this way again. He would _not_ be hurt again.

I took him to the closest private place I could think of, the prefect's bathroom. There I filled the pool-like bathtub with hot water before turning the lavender tap on to help calm him. I carefully stripped him before shucking my own clothes.

I held him gently as I washed him. From his mumbling, I figured out that he felt dirty and shameful. I tried to reassure him as best I could, but his tears continued and I felt helpless. The only way I knew how to offer comfort was with my body.

So I did what I do best. I lifted him out of the pool and dried him off before spreading out the towel to lay him on it. I set about wiping his mind of anything but the pleasure I was giving him. My tongue mapped every inch of his mouth as I did my best to shove it down his throat.

I moved down his body, leaving dark marks along the way. Each one filled me with satisfaction. Everybody would be able see that he belonged to someone, that he belonged to me. The way he moved against me and the whispers and whimpers he made showed me that my distraction was working.

By the time I was done with him that night, he was exhausted and I had owned him in every sense of the word.

Anal sex could be disgusting and painful if done the wrong way. But let me tell you, I have plenty of experience in shagging. He could attest to that.

.+.

When I woke the next morning, I was clutching a warm body in my arms. I was stiff and achy from sleeping on the hard floor, but I felt content. I looked down to see him. His face was snuggled into my chest and his legs tangled with mine. It was then that I knew what I was feeling and what I wanted. I continued to watch him as he slept. I settled into a daze as I stared at his rising and falling chest. When he awoke, he jostled me out of my stupor. He looked up at me and the emotions I could see within them made me freeze.

.

"Be mine?" I asked, my voice gruff with emotion.

"Forever," Harry answered softly.


End file.
